And thus, the winner of “The Happiness Advantage” is none other than…

Okay. Here goes. The Reader’s Digest version of a blind date with a Miserable Bastard (MB) that ended up in a marriage proposal from hell.

The MB in question was a pompous ass lawyer. My friend set me up with him. I immediately began questioning my judgement in friends. During our first date all he could about was talk about:

1. himself
2. how much he hated the town we lived in (my home town, his new town)
3. his former girl friend who was of Nordic descent (I’ll call her Icelandic Dream Girl)

I thought it was a “one and done” kind of an evening, but he wanted to see me again for dinner, not just drinks, explaining that he only asked women out on first date for drinks because he didn’t want to waste his time and money for a whole “dinner thing” if the woman wasn’t his type. Charming, huh?

I accepted his dinner invitation. Why?

Because I was:
1. drinking heavily at the time
2. lonely
3. drinking heavily at the time
4. had low self-esteem
5. drinking heavily at the time
6. didn’t want to spend the rest of my life alone

We dated for several months, during which time he berated me every chance he got, which was a lot. He even forced himself on me (like in rape) and blamed me for not liking it, which I apologized for due to (see above list).

After the rape thing, I kind of knew he wasn’t the MB for me. I tried to avoid him by making excuses not to see him. Clever MB must have figured out what I was up to. Icelandic Dream Girl must have pulled something similar.

In a moment of weakness (see above list), I agreed to go with him on an outside adventure. I’m not the outdoorsey type. He fancied himself an Olympian in canoeing. Out we went onto an angry lake in a yellow death trap. I sat on the floor of the canoe which was swamped due waves cresting over the sides, my hands were claws gripping the edges of the damn boat/likely casket. I thought his plan was to drown me. Imagine my surprise when he proposed marriage to me. I told him I had to think about it, wanting to be on terra firma when I told him to screw himself. Which I did.

The end.

Congratulations, Lorna! I’ll be in touch to award your prize. And a martini.

Any new run-ins with miserable bastards? Um, any plans for spring? Talk to me. I love you.

Recently, as part of a huge work conference I coordinated (okay, helped coordinate), we booked an external guest speaker. A guy named Shawn Achor.

I may have geeked out a little.

Apart from having a viral TedTalk, Shawn is a New York Times bestselling author who’s even caught God’s Oprah’s attention. (If you do one thing today besides pretending to work, I hope it’s clicking that link.)

Why’s he so popular? Well, he’s super cute he studies happiness, for starters. And who isn’t obsessed with happiness but the most stressed out, miserable population since 1936 (I may have made that last part up)?

Shawn grew up in Texas, all set to become a firefighter, when he got accepted into Harvard on a full scholarship. As he tells it, no one was more surprised than him. He got to campus in awe, but eventually depression snuck up and bit him in the smart, adorable tuckus. Though he struggled, Shawn ultimately succeeded, and was even invited to stay on board as a resident adviser after graduation.

Over time, he noticed a glaring trend: He wasn’t alone. Every year, within a couple of short months, a huge percentage of freshman went from exulting in their good fortune to lamenting their overwhelming workloads. Gone was the excitement and gratitude they felt when they first got to Harvard; in swooped a laser-focus on stress and perfection.

What was happening to these kids? And why? And most importantly, could it be helped?

Through some truly fascinating and entertaining research, Shawn discovered -and forgive the cliche as I oversimplify- that happiness comes from within.

Or you could just wait for your friend to give you a lucky bamboo. (DUDE. THIS THING WORKS.)

How many of us tell ourselves, “When I get that promotion, I’ll be happy”? Or, “When I lose 10 pounds, I’ll be happy”? Or my personal favorite, “When bacon goes on sale again, I’ll be happy”? When we constantly define success as a goal that lies ahead of us, we never feel truly satisfied.

The good news is: There’s something we can do about it. And we can do it now. In The Happiness Advantage, Shawn outlines simple Happiness Habits we can all adopt to reverse our negative thought patterns. By putting some of these practices to use, in 21 short days, you’ll report improved levels of happiness in just about every aspect of your life.

If that’s not convincing? Wait’ll you read about how companies embracing positivity are hiring. They’re not wasting their money. They have proof: Optimism yields results, and staggering ones at that.

Shawn does not like this book cover. I know this because we’re best friends.

The Midwest air outside was as crisp as the bacon that awaited us. You could smell it from blocks away. Everyone was in high spirits as they entered the UIC Forum. Speaking of spirits – your admission included 7 drink tickets! Seven! Yes. I truly was among my people.

My BaconFest partner-in-binge-eating prefers to remain anonymous. I think you can see why.

Once inside, I had no idea where to start, so I got in line at the first station and just worked my way around. (In case you’re wondering, yes, my jeans and I did eventually regret this plan.)

Bacon wonderland

Halfway through my trek, I saw Carriage House was serving Bacon Crispie Treats: Fried pork rinds (yeah, you heard me) in place of rice crispies, bacon marshmallow, and bourbon bacon caramel glaze, served with a side of bacon chocolate milk for dipping.

They looked a lot like this (okay, you seriously expected me to stop eating long enough to take my own pictures?). Photo credit: http://nutmegnotebook.com/

When I went to pick up a little square treat from the oh-so-tempting tray, 5 came along with it. I glanced up sheepishly, and the guy manning the table said,

“Take them all! There are no rules at BaconFest!”

And he was right. It was succulent lawlessness at every turn, dozens of people elbowing their way towards things like this:

Holy mother of bloody bacon Marys.

Another highlight was Pigs in Mud from Farmhouse: A cup of rich, chocolate bacon custard, crispy bacon soil, topped with a sugar-coated gummy pig. This adorable concoction even earned them the “Most Creative Use of Bacon” prize.

1) Bacon balls courtesy of Mark Hemmer from Bridge House Tavern: A rich yet delicate blend of Nueske’s bacon, veal and foie gras with a Luxardo cherry in the middle, served with a cherry maple glaze over apple-jicama slaw.

My only regret? I somehow managed to wind up with a leftover drink ticket.

I’ve never been more ashamed.

What other food would you like to see celebrated, festival-style? Leave a comment by 12pm midnight EST on Sunday, May 4, 2014, and I’ll randomly pick a winner to receive a Vosges Mo’s milk chocolate bacon bar!

I so have this! I invented the best thing ever (still need to get in contact with someone about marketing this) when I was perhaps not low but ____. What you do is take two nacho cheese Doritos, the crumbs are the best for this, and then take a somewhat stale (staleness dependent on preference) chocolate raisin and sandwich it in between the Doritos. Pop it in your mouth and experience heaven. Seriously.

I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Could it possibly be good? I liked Raisinets, and I loved Doritos, but together?

Has there ever been a more polarizing FrankenFood? The overall verdict: WIN! You are my hero, Marta. But I already knew you had impeccable taste, given our shared love of Leonardo DiCaprio.Thus, I present your prize – a custom jack-o-lantern:

STEP 1: DESIGN OVERLY AMBITIOUS PATTERN

STEP 2: RIP GUTS OUT OF PERFECT PUMPKIN

Step 3: Tape Design On Pumpkin While Palms Begin to Sweat

Step 4: transfer design And question everything

Step 5: Tell Yourself, “There’s No Turning Back Now” over and over while shoving Raisinitos in your face

Step 6: Begin to Realize Self-Worth

Step 7: Marvel

Congratulations, Marta! (And seriously. Get on this Raisinito thing, pronto.)

The World’s Most Amazing Halloween Contest*

*according to me

The rules are always a little different, but the prize remains the same: A custom jack-o-lantern, designed and carved by yours truly. I base the design on you/your entry, and am so excited to see what this year will bring.

The Rules

Sometimes Frankensteining (eh? Get it?) a recipe together goes awry, other times it blows your mind.

To enter the contest, simply tell me about an unusual food or drink combo you’ve invented or sampled. You can a) leave it in the comments section below, b) blog about it and link back to this post (note: this contest is open to everyone – not just bloggers!), or c) email me: Julie.Davidoski@yahoo.com.

I’ll pick a winner based on insanity originality – it doesn’t matter if the recipe fails or flourishes, just that you gave it the old college try.

The Prize

A custom jack-o-lantern designed and carved by Go Jules Go.

Like this, only, you know, for you. (This is my dog, Uncle Jesse, playing Uno, obviously.)

Oh and Uncle Jesse says there might be an autographed picture in your future.

He doesn’t do this for just anyone, you know.

The Deadline

Monday, October 28th, midnight EST. Winner announced at 7am EST on Halloween, October 31st.

Ahhh. I love settling into writing a post with a crisp, cool, Super Gulp-sized glass of vodka.

Dependency? Moi?

And hey, as long as we’re on the topic… Let’s talk about my latest blog giveaway contest! To celebrate Independence Day, I asked you to describe the person or thing you were unreasonably attached to – your codependent. One lucky entrant would receive this:

Boy. Your entries were stellar; I could scarcely pick a favorite angry cat meme. Nevertheless, the time has come to announce the sole winner. And that is…

Now is as good of time as any to unload something. I like to drink pickle juice. No, not a quick sip, but LONG pulls once the pickles are gone. No one needs to witness this. The spicier the better. Sooo, I’m hooked on McClure’s Spicy Bloody Mary mix because it’s sort of like drinking spicy pickle juice … with vodka. I am not always good at life. This stuff is insanity and makes me, but for a brief moment, forget my deplorable Cherry Chapstick addiction.

The Rules

Simply leave a comment describing your unreasonable attachment to any person, pet, place or object. Who or what controls you? That’s right. This Independence Day, we’re celebrating codependency! As usual, I’ll oh-so-subjectively pick a winner based on humor and originality.

I want my last blog post to be like this movie. Dark. Funny. Romantic. Complete with a dog named Sorry.

Sorry’s got regrets. Oh yes, he does.

Seeking a Friend for the End of the World is disturbingly realistic in so many ways. No cell phones. Traffic jams. Looting. $8.50 for a bottle of window cleaner.

Total lawlessness.

It begs the question: How would the world spend its last days? Would there be time for reflection? Regret? Time for anything but? Would there be time for new connections? They say live every day like it’s your last, but when it’s everyone’s last? What then?

What would I say to you, dear Chipmunks, if it was all about to go up in flames?

Yeah, okay, so what? My last blog post and I’m petty ’til the end. Sue me. Go ‘head. Try to find a lawyer right before armageddon. It’s honesty that gets you through those pearly gates, Chipmunks. Remember that.

Bloggers: What would your last post look like? Bloggers/All: What would you do the day before the apocalypse?

I asked you to share a favorite ‘Mom quote’ – either something you’ve said as a mother that you never thought you would, or something your own mother said that you never forgot. Most of you chose the latter. They were all spectacular. Thank you!

Before I announce the winner, though, I thought I’d tell you about my favorite Mom bomb…

…but Babs always likened drugs and smoking to the worst kind of criminal act. I’d have been better off robbing a bank than sneaking a cigarette.

“I never did drugs,” she told us, time and time again, as we watched our favorite childhood stars get busted for their evil indulgences. “And smoking is the most foul, disgusting habit in the world. Your breath smells and your teeth rot and if you ever take up smoking, well…” She couldn’t even finish that sentence.

Years passed and her three children grew up. What went on behind Pearl Jam poster-covered dorm room doors was a mystery, as far as Babs was concerned.

In my early 20s, thinking maybe the playing field had leveled, I decided to probe.

“So you’re telling me you grew up in the 60s, and you NEVER smoked pot?”

I was sure I knew what was coming. Sweet, innocent Babs paused and then said,

One of my favorite moms, Leanne Shirtliffe of Ironic Mom.com, has a NEW BOOK out this month! An actual book! She’s living the bloggy dream! Even The Bloggess is touting it, unsurprisingly, as “awesome.”

But… but…

Like any wise parent, Leanne knows the best reason for having kids is the writing material. Don’t Lick the Minivan (and Other Things I Never Thought I’d Say to My Kids) features uproarious tales from Leanne’s wild and wacky twin-filled world. I’m particularly excited to read about the birthday party where neighborhood kids took home skin rashes from the second-hand face paint she applied.

She really used a bowl. I swear.

While Babs never gave me any skin rashes, she did subject all three of her children to the infamous bowl haircut. And in a stroke of cruel genius, this year, she decided to have a garage sale on Mother’s Day, thereby guaranteeing slave labor during one of the hottest, muggiest Mother’s Day weekends on record.

So while my brother, sister and I are haggling, sweating and hopefully drinking from cleverly disguised water bottle-flasks, I thought I’d reward you fine folks with a giveaway! At least one of us should have some fun today.

GIVEAWAY

RULES

Simply leave a comment below describing a favorite ‘mom quote’ moment – either something your mother said (or loves to say…repeatedly…), or something you’ve said as a mom that you never thought you would. (For more great ‘mom quote’ moments, head over to Ironic Mom!)

I’ll ever-so-subjectively pick a winner based on humor and originality.